Maybe Never (Maybe #2) (3 page)

Tristan leads me into the room where he immediately makes his intentions clear. He slams the door behind us and presses my back against it. His lips attack mine in a kiss that is more carnal and passionate than any kiss I’ve had before.
 

I smile and kiss him back. I was wrong. This kiss is better than the first kiss he gave me in the lobby of my father’s casino. This is the kiss I need to remember.
 

This kiss doesn’t stop though. It continues right into the next and then the next.
 

His hands travel over my stomach and to the bottom of my shirt. I suck in a breath but don’t stop him as his hand slides under my shirt. I break from his lips when his hand fondles my breast. It’s too much pleasure to feel both his kiss and his touch at the same time.
 

He doesn’t allow me much of a break though before his lips find mine again. My brain tries to take in everything, all of the senses flowing through my body, but it’s too much.
 

I push him back, needing a breather, as I realize what he brought me up here to do.
Sex
. He brought me here to have sex.

Can I really go from having my first real kiss to having sex all in the same night?
 

Tristan’s not a stranger. I’ve known him my entire life. He’s got a bad-boy reputation of sleeping with girls and then leaving them. He wouldn’t do that to me though. I mean more to him than that.
 

I look at his lust-filled eyes that are locked on my breasts, and I know my answer. Yes, I will sleep with him. He won’t hurt me. And I want him just as much as he wants me.
 

I seductively remove my shirt. I don’t take my eyes off of him as he takes a step back so he can take me in. His eyes grow with lust at seeing my bare skin. I watch him take his jacket off, followed by his own shirt, exposing his muscles and tattoos that I didn’t know he had.
 

I walk closer to him and begin shimmying out of my skirt until I’m standing in just my underwear in front of Tristan, who is still wearing his jeans. I walk until I’m just in front of him and grab ahold of his jeans. He curiously looks down at me but doesn’t say anything.
 

I slowly undo the button on his jeans, followed by the zipper. And then I slide his jeans down until they are around his ankles. To my surprise, he isn’t wearing any underwear, and I can’t keep the gasp from escaping my lips at the sight of him, at my first sight of a naked man.
 

He grins at my response. He takes my hand and guides me to it until I’m firmly grasping his cock in my hand. I stroke it once and watch as he moans at my touch. His hand stays on mine as he guides my hand up and down showing me what to do and how he likes it.
 

I must begin to be doing it right, because after a few more strokes he removes his hand from mine and moans loudly as I continue stroking. His hand goes to the back of my head pushing it down to his cock.
 

“Open your mouth,” he says.
 

I do and he pushes his cock inside. It’s a strange feeling having him inside my mouth and now I’m even more clueless as to what to do than I was before. I don’t have to do much though as he pumps his cock in and out of my mouth. I gag once but when I hear how loudly he moans with each thrust I don’t care that he is making me gag. I just want him to enjoy this.
 

He thrusts again and then he moans, “Kinsley,” as salty cum fills my mouth.
 

I swallow, wipe my mouth, and stand to see him grinning wildly at me.
 

He tucks my hair behind my ear and firmly kisses me on the cheek. I smile at him, but I’m not done with him yet. I want more. I want everything.
 

I move to the bed and lie down. “Come here,” I say, patting the bed with lust in my eyes, trying to show him that I want more without saying it.
 

He smiles at me and begins walking to the side of the bed. The door to the bedroom flies open before he gets to me. I grab the throw blanket on the edge of the bed and use it to cover myself as best as I can. When I glance at the door, I see Eli standing in the doorway, wide-eyed.
 

Eli glances at a naked Tristan, and his face turns furious. “Get out,” Eli says to Tristan.
 

Tristan walks over to his jeans and casually slips them on, like he’s not in a rush at all. He grabs his T-shirt from the floor.
 

“Tristan…” I say from the bed.
 

He turns to face me with a smile on his face. “The moment’s passed, Kinsley. I’ll let you get dressed and meet you downstairs.”
 

I nod at his reassuring words. I won’t be sleeping with Tristan tonight—well, at least, not right now—but I do plan on sleeping with him.
 

I watch as Tristan walks past Eli. The men glare at each other, and then Eli shuts the door, leaving me alone in the bedroom with nothing but my disappointment to give me comfort.
 

I quickly get up and get dressed. I put the blanket back on the bed as it was so that the room doesn’t look like it was disturbed. Although, after a night like tonight, I’m sure the whole house will look disturbed.
 

I’m just about to leave when I spot Tristan’s jacket lying on the floor. I pick it up and put it on. I take a deep breath of the sleeve, trying to get any scent of the man I’m in love with. A man I’ve been in love with since I was twelve—or maybe earlier, if I’m being honest with myself.
 

I walk out the door to a waiting Eli. I frown at him as I walk past. He grabs my arm, trying to stop me.
 

“Why did you do that?” I snarl at him.
 

“He’s not good enough for you.”
 

I roll my eyes and keep walking. “You don’t get to make that decision.”
 

I know Eli is following me as I make my way downstairs, but I don’t care. All I need to do is find Tristan again. Once I’m back in his arms, everything will be right again.
 

I grab another beer as I make my way through the house. I need more alcohol in my system after one of the best nights of my life was interrupted by a man I don’t care about. I drink my beer as I search the main floor of the house for Tristan.
 

After walking the entire main floor, I haven’t spotted him, but I have finished my beer. I place the empty cup on the counter in the kitchen and head back to the living room to get another beer. I search for Tristan the entire time, but I still don’t find him.
 

“He’s outside,” Eli says from behind me.
 

I turn slowly and narrow my eyes, not understanding why he would help me find Tristan when he just interrupted us.
 

“Thank you,” I say anyway.
 

I grab another beer and begin walking toward the back door that leads outside to find him. The walk turns into a run as I can’t wait to find him, but it takes me longer than I want to get to him due to the amount of people I have to push through.
 

I finally get to the back door, and I slowly walk out to the warm summer air. I walk past the dance floor where Tristan and I were dancing earlier, but I don’t spot him.
 

High-pitched squeals get my attention though, even over the booming music. I turn to see what the squealing is about when I see Vanessa in the pool with several of her girlfriends. Tristan throws her before swimming after her. I watch as he surfaces again, grabs ahold of Vanessa, and kisses her on the lips.
 

I drop my beer at the sight of him kissing another girl so quickly after me.
 

Tristan’s eyes meet mine for just a second, and for just a second, I see an ounce of worry there. He lets go of Vanessa, and to my surprise, he begins swimming toward me, like there is anything he could say to make this better.
 

He
used
me. He got what he wanted from me, and now, he is moving on.
 

I turn to go back into the house just as the tears fall, but I won’t let him see that. He doesn’t get to know that he hurt me, but he knows he did. That’s why I hear him calling my name. Even as I run back into the house, I can still hear my name being repeated over and over.
 

Only once I’m back in the living room does his voice disappear, and it becomes replaced by my sobs. I spot Eli walking toward me, but I’m not ready to face him. Not yet. Not when he was right, and I was wrong.
 

I should have chosen Eli instead of Tristan. Eli is light while Tristan is dark, and I chose the darkness, thinking I could find the light in him. I couldn’t though. He betrayed me the first chance he got.
 

I keep walking, needing to get out of the house. I just need to go home. I make it to the entryway when I begin to hear sirens in the distance, growing louder with each second.
 

Shortly after, someone yells, “Cops!”
 

All at once, the house turns to panic as underage high schoolers begin pushing their way to get out of the house before the police arrive. I’m pushed out of the house in the process, but I don’t have time to call for a ride like I was planning. I can’t run. Not in my heels. I wouldn’t make it far enough to escape being picked up by the cops for underage drinking.
 

I feel around in Tristan’s pocket, hoping his car keys are there. I feel the bag he picked up at my father’s casino. I try the other pocket and smile slyly when I find the keys, giving me just enough relief from the tears staining my face.
 

I move as fast as I can toward his car parked on the street. I climb in and start the engine, not feeling at all guilty that I’m taking his car while he’ll be stuck to deal with questions from the cops about his drinking. I don’t care. He deserves much worse after what he just did to me.
 

I start the car and step on the gas. The wheels squeal as I turn the corner, making it off the street just as I see the lights of cop cars turning onto the street where the party is going on. I smile, wiping the tears that are almost gone from my eyes.
 

I won’t cry over that jackass. I glance down and realize I’m still wearing the asshole’s jacket. I immediately take it off while keeping an eye on the road as I speed toward my house. I throw the jacket onto the passenger side. That’s when I see it—the damn little black bag that he picked up in the casino.
 

Now that I no longer have lust for Tristan to distract me, I feel my curiosity grow until I can’t wait any longer to find out what is in the bag. I grab the bag and fumble with the opening, but the string doesn’t budge.
 

“Ah, come on,” I curse at the bag that doesn’t open.
 

I try again, pulling harder on the string until the bag pops open. White powder falls from the bag and onto my lap.
 

“What the hell?”

I try to dust myself off, but it’s no use. I’m covered in white powder.
 

My mind finally makes the connection.
 

It’s drugs
.
 

That’s what Tristan was doing at the casino—buying drugs.
 

He’s not who I thought he was. Not at all.
 

Tristan’s a horrible, vile man who is nothing more than a druggie.
 

I throw the bag of drugs into the front seat and watch more powder fall onto the seat. My dream since I was twelve is gone. Shattered into dust, just like the dust of the cocaine scattered around his car.
 

I drive faster as my anger overtakes me. I can’t believe I was so stupid. I can’t believe I made such a ridiculous mistake going after Tristan.
Stupid, stupid!
I hit my hand against the wheel.
 

I round a corner, passing the busy section of downtown, when everything begins moving in slow motion. A child takes a step off the curb onto the street in front of me. I slam on the brakes, but my movement is too slow, slower than it should be. I turn the wheel, but the wheel moves even slower than the brakes.
 

I hear a woman scream.
 

I see the car miss the boy by no more than an inch.
 

Then, the car crashes into a light pole.
 

I feel my body jerk forward but am stopped abruptly as the airbag hits me.
 

Then, suddenly, everything moves fast. Much too fast. Sirens sound and then approach quickly. I climb out of the car without a scratch on me. But it’s not me I’m concerned with anymore. I glance across the street to the woman tightly holding her child with tears streaming down her face.
 

I could have killed her child today. I could have taken away everything precious to her. And all because I made one bad decision after the next. A cop car approaches cautiously and stops just a few feet from where I’m standing.
 

He climbs quickly out of the car and runs over to me. “Is everyone okay? What happened?” he asks with a calm yet commanding voice.
 

I glance at the car and then back to the policeman. The car is filled with drugs. I’ve been drinking while underage and probably had more than the legal limit. I drove a car no one gave me permission to drive. I almost killed a child.
 

I’m going to jail. That much, I’m sure of. I just don’t know when I’ll be getting out.
 

I glance at the child who is visibly shaking in his mother’s arms.
 

“You need to check on that child. You need to make sure he is okay,” I say, gathering my courage, as I stare at the precious boy who, by some miracle, was spared. It had nothing to do with my ability to control a vehicle and everything to do with a miraculous event. “And then you need to arrest me.”